Closer to the road, the ancient graves
crumble under the weight of time.
Words of love, of lost, of hope and despair
are scattered amongst the un cut grass.
...
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This left me feeling empty and drained, it was so well penned. So much sadness........ Love, Fran xx
Vincent...What a lovely reminder for us to respect those who have long ago departed our world. I once had to recover a head stone from a yound child's grave that had been stolen by some disresepectful hooligans, I'm sure as a prank. The child, and her infant brother had died in 1870. My collegues located the burial plot, a tiny spot of land hidden by trees and a fence, within the city, next to a very busy road. Perhaps some day I'll write a poem about that. Thank you for yours...it was very well done and a nice reminder. Hugs, Dee